The Story Of A Secret
by letmespeak27
Summary: Alice is humping her art teacher, Rosalie is dating her best friends' ex, and Bella is making out with her sister's boyfriend. How did these girls get themselves into this mess? And how in the hell are they gonna get out of it? Multi POV, AH, OOC
1. Bella

**Isabella Marie Swan**

"He broke up with you!" Rosalie screeched on the other line. I heard Alice gasp in the background and I knew that they would be over at my house in less than 5 minutes. Normally, Rose's angry voice made me laugh, but this time, it just made me cry harder. My face was wet and I didn't even care. The salty tears were running into my mouth and I licked my lips to rid my mouth of them.

"B-but, you two were perfect for each other!" Alice joined in. I sniffed and nodded my head even though they couldn't see me. We were perfect. More perfect then anything I could've imagined. 4 months and I was already completely in love with him.

"He totally got me and my stupid sense of humor." by the last word, I was in a fit of tears again and Alice couldn't understand me.

There was the sound of a scramble, and then Rosalie's voice on the phone again. "Hang in there. We'll be at your place in 5." and then she hung up and I was alone again. I sat my cell phone down and tried to breathe. My chest felt heavy and I could feel my heart breaking. This was the very first relationship I had been in and I had given every part of me in hopes of making it last. It had worked...until now.

I was questioning everything. Was anything real? Nothing..._nothing _could have been more real than our relationship, and now I was wrong. It just doesn't make any sense. We were together since fucking sophomore year and now he decides to break up with me? And the worst part is... two weeks ago, I gave him all of me.

The thought made me cry harder. Was I not good enough? Did he not like my pasty white skin? Is there something wrong with me? There were so many questions I wanted answered but I couldn't ask him because he wasn't mine anymore and I didn't think I'd ever be able to face him again.

"Bella?" the door opened and Alice and Rosalie walked into the house. It was a good thing Charlie was working late and that Renee was in Seattle for work. I didn't want to explain this to them.

They were hugging me immediately, and I was crying into their shoulders while they stroked my hair.

"Tell us what happened." Alice said softly as they both pulled back.

So I began to tell them all of it. How everything was perfect until tonight. How E hadn't show any signs of wanting to break up with me until he fucking showed up at my house and told me that he couldn't go out with me anymore.

"I hate how boys are so fucking confusing. Why do they always having to act like d-bags all the time?" Rosalie sighed, not really wanting an answer.

I shrugged and shook my head. I wasn't really in the mood to question guys right then. What I really wanted is a pint of ice cream and a happy movie. It was a good thing it's the weekend. E was kind enough to break up with me on Friday. He obviously knew I would need time to recover from this surprising blow.

Alice opened her mouth to say something, but we heard giggling from outside, and then the lock was rattling and the door was opening to show my sister walking in with her boyfriend.

Tanya had her head thrown back in laughter when her and her boyfriend walked in. I know you're supposed to love your family and shit, but I truly detested my sister. Most of the time. When we were younger, we used to be pretty tight, but now that she's a senior, and I'm a junior, she kinda hates me. I'm okay with it though. We'll grow out of it.

She looked at us, and I saw her expression soften at my tear striped face, but it instantly went back to her hard-ass exterior. "What happened to you? You look like a raccoon." she stated bitchily.

Her boyfriend glared at her, and I smiled at him. He was my age and he was in my biology class so we had to talk sometimes. Bad luck for him, he got caught up by my cougar of a sister.

"E broke up with me." I said sadly, hoping for a bit of sympathy.

She raised an eyebrow and barked out a laugh. "Doesn't surprise me."

Rose stood up and looked like she was about to punch her, but she held back and just glared at her. The room was silent and I waited for Rose to do something. She had always hated Tanya, even when she used to be nice to me.

Tanya narrowed her eyes at Rosalie, then turned back to me. "Don't keep me awake with your mood fest." she said before kissing her boyfriend on the cheek and leaving him to his own defenses as she walked upstairs. He watched her go up, then turned back to us.

"You alright, Bella?" he asked sweetly. How Tanya landed him, I had no idea. He's waaaay too good for her. He deserves someone better.

"Ya, I'll be fine Edward. Thanks for asking." I sighed out.

He gave me a sad smile and lightly patted me on the shoulder. "Emmett's an idiot for breaking up with you." he told me, and I wanted to believe him. "See you on Monday." and then he left, and Rose sat down.

"I have no idea why he stays with your bitch of a sister. She must be good in bed or something."

I tried not to laugh, but I do and it felt really good. Pretty soon, Ali and Rose were joining in and we vaguely heard Tanya yelling at us to shut the fuck up.

**Disclaimer: **"_I was questioning everything. Was anything real? Nothing...nothing could have been more real than our relationship, and now I was wrong"_

This is from an interview of Kristen Stewart on the set of New Moon. It belongs to her.

Twilight and all it's characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.


	2. Alice

**Mary Alice Brandon**

It was Monday. I hated Mondays. They sucked lots of hairspray, and doing that shit hurts a bunch. What was worst about Mondays was knowing that you had to live through school for 5 days without doing anything wrong, or bad, and without making someone mad at you. You had to act like the perfect student you aren't and you couldn't make a mistake.

For most people, that was easy, but not for me.

It probably had something to do with my art teacher.

His name was Mr. Whitlock. Jasper, actually. He was all kinds of beautiful, and sometimes, I had to hold myself back from tackling him and kissing him. Ya, he was that gorgeous. When I told Bella and Rose that I thought this, they looked at me like I had just told them I loved to have belly button sex with Zac Efron. I guess most girls don't think he's gorgeous because of the scars. His face was covered with them, and therewas a thin, dark red one running from his jaw to his eyebrow.

I didn't mind them though. I thought they made him look a little bit dangerous. And they added to the sexy factor a lot. Plus, it helped that I had imagined kissing every single one of them.

But the worst part about crushing on a teacher was the fact that you knew nothing can come from it. You knew that even if he _was_ attracted to you, you couldn't do anything about it because of the way everyone would view the relationship. And it just plain sucked.

So when I walked into his classroom during 3rd hour, and his eyes caught mine, I quickly looked away to save myself the grief. I sat down in my assigned seat, and began getting ready for the class.

I was a little tired because last night, Rose and I took B out to try and cheer her up. She actually smiled and laughed so I think we did a pretty damn good job of making her realize that Emmett isn't the only guy out there. He's just one amongst many.

I hated the fact that the break up made Bella feel weak. To me, she was one of the strongest people I knew, and I trusted her with almost everything. She was my best friend, and it killed me to think that a stupid boy could break her strength. We already dealt with her invisibility dream...

I sighed and kept my eyes trained on my lap as I sat in front of my easel.

The bell rang and the class settled down. Mr. Whitlock was sitting on the edge of his desk, surveying the classroom. It was Monday, which means we had to paint whatever he thought up. His eyes narrowed and it seemed like he was thinking.

His eyes quickly flashed to mine, and he turned around and walked to the white board. He whipped out a red expo and began to write. The class stayed silent as we waited for him to show us what he had written.

_Relationships with: friends, family, the opposite sex. Paint it._

Mr. Whitlock wasn't much of a talker, so he just smiled at us and then sat down to sip at his coffee.

The first thing that came to my mind when I thought of relationships was Bella's and how it just ended, but I didn't want to paint something to remind her of that. The second thing was our friendship, but that was way too cliché to paint.

My eyes peeked up at Mr. Whitlock, and I bit my lip.

What I wanted to paint might get me in trouble with the school, and him, but I had to paint it.

I picked up paints the color of the sky, skin, blond hair, black hair, and pink lips. My imagination was running wild as I squirted the paints onto a palate.

I was so going to get detention for this, I knew it, but I couldn't find it in myself to care.

With that thought, I started to paint, and I didn't stop for the whole class hour.

"Time." Mr. Whitlock called out.

We all set our brushes down, and I waited with bated breath as Mr. Whitlock made his rounds. He always began at the people next to the door, then made his way back. I was in the corner, and I was always last.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Mr. Whitlock was standing behind me, viewing my painting.

I watched his eyes as they traveled across the skin, the hand firmly planted on her ass while the other one was buried in her short hair. Both of their shirts were off, and the girl had her hands wrapped around the mans' narrow waist. It was a simple lovers' embrace that only gave off an innuendo. I could have done much worse.

That might not be possible actually. Seeing as the painting was very clear on the fact that it wasn't just two random people.

It was me and Jasper

Jasper made a noise in the back of his throat, then gently put his hand on my shoulder and leaned down closer to my ear.

"See me at lunch, Alice."

His voice was a warning, but even then, I coulnd't help but shiver.

Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap. I was about to pee my pants as I watched the clock at the end of 4th hour. My shoes were mindlessly tapping and I wasn't aware I was making any noise until Mike Newton slapped my leg and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Too much sugar in your cereal Tink?" he teased. I rolled my eyes and continued clock watching.

Finally, the bell rang and I was flying out of my seat. I passed Rosalie and Bella as they went towards the cafeteria and quickly told them that I had to go meet with a teacher. They exchanged a weird look but said alright and I continued racing down the now deserted hallway. I slowed down once I was in B hall. I didn't want to seem too anxious.

I saw his classroom, and the butterflies in my stomach multiplied like bunnies. So many things could happened when I walked in there. One, he could yell at me and/or threaten to call home. Two, he could give me detention. And three, he could just send me to the principals office and lecture me about the inappropriateness of the painting.

_As Fergie said, Big Girls Don't Cry. Just get your butt in there and deal! _

I listened to my conscience and finally grabbed the doorknob and opened his door.

He was sitting at his desk, eating his lunch, and listening to music. When he saw me walk in, he stood up and brushed his hands off on his pants.

"Please, take a seat Alice." he said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. I made my way over to the seat and sat down on the very edge, my backpack at my feet.

Mr. Whitlock took his seat across from me, and stared at me for a second. Then he reached down and brought the painting up from below. He sat it on the little ledge of the white board behind him before looking back at me.

"Do you understand why I called you in?" he askd me, his tone not giving anything away to how he felt. I glanced at the painting and bit my lip.

Finally, I answered. "Because you think the painting is inappropriate?" I stated slowly, even though it sounded like a question.

He gave me a small smile and nodded. "What I'm wondering is that if you know the painting is inappropriate, why did you paint it?" he genuinely sounded curious. I didn't mind. I was just glad he hadn't started yelling. Although...an angry Mr. Whitlock might be a hot Mr. Whilock.

I let out a little laugh and brought the chair closer to his desk so I could sit my elbows on it.

"Have you ever done anything...wrong, and yet not felt guilty after doing it?" I asked him with one eyebrow raised. He nodded. I smiled. "That's how that painting is for me. I knew it was wrong right when I started painting it, but now that it's said and done...I honestly don't feel any guilt at all." I shrugged and gave him a smile.

Mr. Whitlock narrowed his eyes at me, but smiled anyway.

To my surprise, and pleasure, he rolled his chair closer to his desk and leaned in.

"I'm fairly sure my guess of the two people in this painting is correct, so my question for you is, do you feel like the subject matter is wrong?"

Holy shit.

I took a deep breath, and shook my head.

"No. I don't feel like the subject matter is wrong. You wrote on the board to paint relationships. Even though the one in the painting might not be reality..." I trailed off. "You never said the relationship couldn't be a fantasy."

His eyes lingered down to my lips when I licked them, then quickly snapped back up to my eyes.

Checkmate.

The moment was broken when he looked away and backed his chair up.

He stood up and ran a hand through his blond hair, his back to me.

"Never paint something like this in my class again, Alice," I loved the way my name sounded coming from his lips, even if it was to scold me. "Paintings that defy reality should stay out of my classroom."

I glared at his back. "When Salvidor Dali painted melting clocks in the desert, did people tell him to stop painting things that 'defied reality?' No. They praised him for coming up with something unique."

Mr. Whitlock whipped around and glared at me. "That may be true, but they don't praise paintings that showcase things that are wrong, and _illegal." _

Scoffing, I stood up and put my backpack on. I began walking towards the door. Before I left though, I turned around and almost smiled to find that he watched me.

"If they don't give a _fuck, _that whatever painted is wrong then it doesn't matter." I told him, not breaking eye contact. "And the age of consent in the state of Washington is 16. Have a good day, _Jasper."_


End file.
